


All Strung Out

by didipickles



Series: FratPat [4]
Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Anal Plug, Blow Jobs, Dirty Talk, Husbands, M/M, Thirsty Bottom Patrick Brewer, he's back!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-13
Updated: 2020-08-13
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:27:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25870564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/didipickles/pseuds/didipickles
Summary: Patrick needs to get out of his head before he can finish writing a song. David is there to help.aka The Return of FratPat
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Series: FratPat [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1530650
Comments: 45
Kudos: 153





	All Strung Out

**Author's Note:**

> thank you to this-is-not-nothing, who is a kind, considerate, brilliant beta who makes everything she touches better AND gave me a title. thank you to ships-to-sail for being the best cheerleader even on bad days. 
> 
> thank you everyone who has ever left kudos or comments on the fratpat series: this one is for you.

The day of vendor visits had been long but successful. David made the rounds by himself while Patrick worked at the store, so David was left alone to fight the moths that congregated by the light on their otherwise very cute front door to their even cuter cottage. Sheer determination and fortitude got David in the door unscathed, with all the samples his vendors sent home with him still intact. Frankly he thought that merited a good amount of congratulatory kisses from his husband, but Patrick wasn’t in the living room or the kitchen. Wondering if Patrick wasn’t home yet, David set down his bag of goodies on the counter and made it to the stairs when he heard it. He leaned against the wall and closed his eyes, letting the soft guitar and Patrick’s voice drift down the stairs and over him. Although he couldn’t recognize the song, the sound of Patrick making music was so achingly familiar that David was drawn to it, unable to stay a silent spectator for long.

Once he was at the top of the stairs, he heard Patrick shift into another song. It was an original that Patrick had been toying with for months, and had never let David hear in its entirety, insisting it ‘wasn’t ready’ and he needed to ‘fine-tune it.’ For a few seconds David stayed hidden next to the doorframe, until he heard Patrick groan and strike a grotesque chord. 

Patrick’s voice carried now, even though he was speaking to himself. “Fuckin’ can’t write it, what the fuck, need something else.”  _ Fuckin’.  _ Unusual.

The frustration in Patrick’s voice propelled David into the room. “Well that attitude isn’t going to help anyone,” he said, putting his hands on his hips and looking down at where Patrick sat. He looked like a stereotype from a college party, sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of the bed in his goddamn  _ jorts  _ and white t-shirt and a backwards hat, with a guitar on his lap and a beer next to him. David almost expected to turn and find a gaggle of swooning hangers on, but instead he cocked his head and raised an eyebrow when Patrick looked up at him. “What’s with the moping on the floor?”

“I’m not moping,” Patrick grumbled. He reached for his beer and took a drink, finishing it off and squeezing the can until the aluminum crumpled under his hand. 

“Yeah, you’re really making a strong case for that with — all this,” David said, gesturing at the scene. Patrick sighed and closed his eyes while he strummed a few melancholy chords on the guitar. 

“Can’t write. I have an idea and then as soon as I pick up the guitar I can’t remember a fuckin’ thing.” There it was again, the subtle shift in Patrick’s language that came when he slipped into fratboy Patrick. But this was all wrong, he was… _ sad _ fratboy Patrick. 

David frowned and stepped toward him, bending down to gingerly move the crushed can onto the nearest non-carpet surface. “Mm,” David hummed, putting a hand on Patrick’s knee before standing up again. God, he hated those jorts.  _ Jorts.  _ He never would have thought he’d marry someone who wore them, and here he was now, wanting nothing more than to comfort this petulant jorts-clad man. More than anything, he hated that he actually  _ liked  _ them on Patrick. They always looked a little worked-in, like he’d just come in from gardening or grilling. And they regrettably fit well enough that David couldn’t justify throwing them out.

Focus. The jorts were far less concerning right now than Patrick practically wilting into the floor. David moved around him and gently pushed Patrick’s shoulders forward so he could fit himself behind him, sitting up on the bed so he could bracket Patrick’s arms with his legs. As soon as David’s hands started working on Patrick’s back, he felt the shift in his husband. The tension in Patrick’s body seeped out into David’s hands, and David could already feel him relaxing.

“Maybe you just need to get out of your head for a bit?” David ventured quietly, his hands now massaging Patrick’s neck below the brim of his hat. It was different from the one tucked in their toy drawer, designated as the signal for dudebro Patrick and fucking. Since it wasn’t that one, David didn’t want to assume anything and opted for a safer route. “You could go find a sport to watch? Or go for a run, maybe? That’s helped you before.” He kept his voice gentle. Patrick’s body had loosened so much under his hands, and he didn’t want to risk anything ratcheting up the tension again.

Patrick grunted a response that gave David absolutely nothing to work with, so David went silent and focused on the sensation of Patrick’s muscles,the tactile pleasure of locating and working knot after knot. As much as David loved being massaged (and he really,  _ really  _ did), he found the act of giving massages almost equally soothing. His mind came to rest on the task in front of him, the way he could connect with another body and feel it respond to him, and the pleasure that came from doing it well was — David adjusted a little where he sat. God, was he this horny, really? Just sitting on the bed and massaging his husband was enough to get his dick interested? 

David’s thumbs dug in at the base of Patrick’s skull and drew a quiet sigh from Patrick. “That’s really good,” Patrick said, nearly inaudible. David repeated the motion and was rewarded with a slightly louder, “god, yeah.” Finally. As much as David enjoyed the silence and reading Patrick’s reactions in his muscles, actually  _ hearing  _ him was better. Much better. So much better, in fact, that David was starting to get uncomfortable in his tight jeans. 

Now that Patrick’s body wasn’t so tightly wound, David figured he could get up and discreetly abscond to the bathroom to deal with his situation. He leaned forward and kissed the top of Patrick’s hat and then patted his shoulders twice. “Okay. Now write.” Maneuvering his way around Patrick, David stood and started toward the door, until —

“David.” Patrick’s voice was quiet but electric behind him, and David’s nerves seemed to tingle in an automatic response. As slowly as he could manage, David turned around. His husband stared back at him from the floor with pink cheeks and determination written on every inch of his face. “C’mere.”

Despite the signs, David wasn’t  _ entirely  _ convinced he was being called over for good reasons, and he hesitated before taking a step in Patrick’s direction, which won him a beleaguered sigh.

“Just fuckin’ come here, okay?” Patrick reached up to adjust his hat, giving David a significant look. Oh.  _ Oh.  _ Confirmation. As if to drive the point home further, Patrick licked his lips and added, “dude.”

Stupid fucking fratboy vernacular and the stupid fucking way it went straight to David’s stupid fucking dick. David nodded and took a few more steps until he was right in front of Patrick, looking down at his cross-legged college boy of a husband. Patrick still had the guitar on his lap, and David bent down to take it. After placing it carefully in its holder against the wall, David returned to stand in front of Patrick. He looked smaller and more vulnerable without the guitar, and David wondered if that was part of why he played it in high school. With a guitar he could draw the attention away from himself and channel it into something tangible that people could fawn over instead of looking too closely at him. 

Now that there wasn’t a guitar between them, Patrick wouldn’t meet David’s eye and David had to lean forward to gently push under Patrick’s chin to get him to look up. “I’m here,” he said simply, waiting for Patrick to work through whatever inner battle he was currently fighting.

Patrick swallowed and blinked. “I want,” he started, slow and careful, “to suck your cock until you come all over my fuckin’ face.”

_ Fuck.  _ So much emotional weight lived under the filthy veneer of those words, and David heard the request Patrick wasn’t saying aloud. 

“Oh, is that what you want,” David replied lightly, stroking a finger over Patrick’s cheek. He needed to play this cool, to make sure he was on the same page as his husband. “You want me to get you out of your head, hm? You want to kneel down like a good boy and suck me off?”

Patrick’s entire upper half elongated as Patrick tried to get closer to David, to push against the finger still softly moving over Patrick’s skin. His neck looked utterly perfect for biting, and David wanted to leave bruises that couldn’t be hidden by Patrick’s button-ups. Instead, David put his finger under Patrick’s chin again.

“Is that what you want, Patrick?”

The silence felt heavy for a moment, until Patrick pushed himself up onto his knees and nodded, placing his hands on David’s thighs. “Yeah, man. That’s what I want. I fuckin’ need it, need you to just…make me not think about anything but you.” 

Satisfied, David nodded. "I can do that for you." He reached down to Patrick's hands and pulled them up to the button on David's pants. "Go on, then."

Patrick bit his bottom lip in concentration as he worked David’s jeans open and down to his thighs. Immediately he nuzzled in against the soft fabric of David's briefs and took a deep breath. "Fuckin' love the way you smell," he murmured, dragging his nose along the line of David's cock. "Wanna have that smell all over me, man." 

As soon as Patrick pulled David's underwear down, David grabbed him under the chin again, harder this time, tilting until Patrick was looking up at him. "Not yet." 

Patrick grunted in frustration when David stepped away, and made a move to get up and follow. David held up a finger.

"No. Wait there." 

Although Patrick let out another angry sound, he stayed where he was on his knees. Once David was satisfied that Patrick wasn't going anywhere, he turned to the dresser and opened the drawer where they stored their sex toys, meticulously arranged and regularly cleaned. David found the simple blue-tinted glass plug easily, then took the lube and towel from the far right side of the drawer. He turned back to Patrick and held up the plug, waiting to see Patrick's reaction.

"Oh  _ fuck  _ dude, yeah, yeah,  _ please,  _ fuck."

David nodded and walked to the bed, laying out the towel, the lube, and the plug. Patrick was still waiting on his knees, and David returned to him and extended a hand, pulling him up and immediately kissing him hard. "Gonna get you out of your head, Patrick," David whispered against him.

Somehow despite Patrick's insistence that he not be more than an inch away from David, they worked together to get him fully undressed. Then when Patrick tugged a little desperately at the bottom of David's sweater, David finished undressing himself as well. Finally, it was just skin and touch and the slide of their mouths, the cupping of a hand on a cheek, a small moment of quiet intimacy before David finally put a hand on Patrick's chest and pushed him back a step. His voice was low when he whispered, "get on the bed. On your stomach."

Patrick seemed torn between wanting to stay in David's space and wanting to do as he was told, but finally he turned around and lay on the towel, the dip of his back and curve of his ass on display. David bent forward slightly to run his hands up the muscles of Patrick's thick thighs and felt Patrick shiver slightly. The air was charged as David dragged his nails back down and Patrick fought to stay still. Smirking, David did it again: a slow stroke up, nails skimming down. He repeated the motion until Patrick's legs were shaking and then finally reached over to the lube. 

"Hold your ass open for me," David said. Patrick's hands practically flew back to obey, and David bit down a smile. He loved having the privilege to see all these versions of Patrick, the secret parts of him that nobody else had been able to unlock. A mix of pride and affection came over David as he watched Patrick eagerly pull his cheeks apart, and David dropped down to kiss his rim gently. He felt the shock of it ripple through Patrick, heard the gasp that turned to a sigh when David let his tongue slip out for a moment. Being allowed this kind of closeness was heady, and David reminded himself again that Patrick was his  _ forever.  _ He got to have this man for the rest of his life.

Since David was fairly sure that happy crying would ruin the mood, he pulled away and focused on warming the lube on his fingers. Patrick was shifting as he kept his ass open, struggling not to grind against the towel, and David trailed his lube-free hand down Patrick’s back. "Stay still for me, Patrick." David waited until Patrick stopped moving, and then slowly, slowly ran the pad of his index finger over Patrick's hole. He moved in small deliberate circles, feeling the tension spread as Patrick continued trying not to move. "Beautiful, that's gorgeous," David murmured, pushing the tip of his finger inside and watching the flex of Patrick's arms, the curl of his fingers where they clutched at his ass. Patrick was going to have marks from where his nails dug in, and the thought was enough to make David bite his lip and push his finger in further. 

“Oh  _ fuck  _ dude, please, please give me more, gimme another fuckin’ finger man, please,” Patrick begged, his voice muffled in the pillow.

“Greedy,” David murmured, but slipped the tip of his middle finger in alongside the other, watching with awe at how beautifully Patrick stretched for him, the eager way Patrick opened himself up in myriad ways for David. 

For long minutes, David lost himself in watching his fingers moving in and out of Patrick. He studied the way he could crook one finger and draw a whine, or pull almost all the way out and get a curse from up the bed, or brush a fourth finger at the rim and watch Patrick’s entire body push to accept it. David could spend hours doing this, using his exhaustive knowledge of Patrick’s body to tease out every drop of pleasure from his husband, but that wasn’t what Patrick had asked for. With a small wistful sigh, David finally pulled his fingers out.

“Too empty, man, too fuckin’ empty,” came Patrick’s shaky voice at once.

“God, you’re so hungry for it, aren’t you?” David asked as he spread lube over the glass plug. “Can’t wait to have this in your ass and my cock in your mouth, huh?”

Patrick’s answer was a grunt and a nod.

“Say it,” David said. He touched the blunt tip of the plug to Patrick’s stretched hole and waited.

“I’m fuckin’ hungry for it, I wanna be stuffed full while I suck your cock, dude, just fuckin’ gimme it,” Patrick said, voice a bit stronger now.

“Mhm, that’s what I thought.” Carefully, David pushed the plug until he felt Patrick relax around it. “God, that looks so good, Patrick, you look so good for me.” Once it was fully inside, David gave the flared end a hard pat and smirked at the yelp it drew from Patrick. He allowed himself a moment to just enjoy the sight of the plug in Patrick’s ass, the long stretch of Patrick’s back, and the backwards hat crowning the scene. Finally, David took a few steps back from the bed and lazily gripped his cock and gave a few slow strokes. “On the floor, please.”

Patrick nearly toppled off the bed in his haste to get up. He knelt down in front of David and looked up with those ridiculously soulful eyes, somehow managing to bore straight into David’s softest parts even as they played this game. David smiled down at him for an indulgent moment before raising his eyebrows and letting go of his cock. Patrick seemed to understand that as permission, and he took David’s dick in his hand and licked the precome that had leaked while David worked Patrick open.

“Mm,” Patrick hummed, looking up at David and winking before licking his lips before going back in, taking the head into his mouth. Distantly David wondered how Patrick was able to so perfectly figure out how David wanted his cock to be sucked at any given moment, and then the thought was swiftly replaced by  _ oh fuck oh god he took it all the way down fuck shit god.  _ David roughly pulled the hat off and wound his hand into the top of Patrick’s hair as Patrick kept steadily taking David’s cock down his throat before pulling back and sucking the head and starting over again.

“Patrick, oh my god, fuck that’s good, you’re doing such a good job, baby — oh my  _ god,  _ yeah,” David babbled. His head fell back as Patrick took him down again, and he felt the dig of Patrick’s nails into the backs of his thighs as Patrick tried to somehow pull him deeper. “Jesus Christ, yes, take it, you want it, you fucking want it.” It was impossible to focus on anything but the unrelenting pressure of Patrick’s lips, Patrick’s throat, Patrick’s tongue, Patrick everywhere. One of Patrick’s hands moved further up the back of David’s leg and then between to brush against his balls, and David made a high sound in his throat and tugged Patrick’s hair. Patrick repeated the motion, and David tugged again. He felt Patrick’s moan reverberate through his cock and up his spine, and he gave another hard tug.

Patrick pulled off and panted, his cheek against David’s thigh as he gazed up with glassy eyes. “Fuck man, oh my god, fuckin’ love your cock so goddamn much.” His voice was husky and raw around the edges, and David’s cock twitched. “Gonna fuckin’ make you come, dude, gonna make you come all the fuck over my face,” Patrick intoned, pulling David’s cock quickly and smoothly.

“Open your mouth,” David whispered, still gripping tightly to Patrick’s hair. Patrick obeyed, opening his mouth and sticking his tongue out. “So fucking pretty,” David added. He pushed Patrick’s hand out of the way and gripped the base of his cock, slapping it onto Patrick’s waiting tongue and watching Patrick’s eyelashes flutter against his pink-tinged cheeks. “You like that,” David said. It wasn’t a question; Patrick  _ did  _ like it and they both knew it. He did it again and Patrick whimpered. David pulled back long enough to reach down and grab Patrick’s hand to put it back on his cock. “Get me off.”

Patrick nodded and set a quick pace with his hand while he rested the tip of David’s cock on his tongue. In a matter of moments David gave the warning pull of Patrick’s hair and fought to keep his eyes open to watch as he came in long bursts onto Patrick’s tongue, his cheek, his lips. When David finished, shaking and panting, Patrick’s face was painted with it. 

“Fuck yeah,” Patrick murmured, almost to himself. He smiled gleefully up at David and then licked his lips, and  _ fuck  _ that would never get old. 

David dropped his hand to Patrick’s face, swiping his thumb through a spatter of come on Patrick’s chin and then pushing it into Patrick’s mouth. He repeated the movement again and again until the come was mostly gone from Patrick’s face, then bent down to kiss him. 

“Stay here,” David murmured into his lips. He went to the bathroom and wet a washcloth before returning to gingerly wipe Patrick’s face. Patrick dutifully stayed on his knees while David cleaned him up, and then David pulled him to his feet and kissed him again, slow and lazy and deep. Finally, he broke the kiss. “Okay,” he said quietly. “Think you can write now?”

Patrick’s eyes immediately dropped to his own cock, still hard and untouched.

David smiled and tipped Patrick’s head up to quickly kiss him once more. “When you have two verses and a chorus, I promise I will take care of that, okay? Until then, the plug stays in and you cannot come.”

For a moment, David thought he’d gone too far and Patrick was going to object, but then he watched as Patrick’s body shifted and straightened, a look of determination on his face. “Yeah, yeah I can do that.”

“Good. I’m going to be downstairs reading.” David pulled on his underwear, a pair of joggers, and a t-shirt before gesturing towards the guitar as he headed out of the room. “You can do it, baby.”

In reality, David was far too distracted to do much of anything as he thought about his husband, hard and plugged, desperately trying to write so he could get off. The thought was a lot hotter than David would have expected. He mostly spent the following 45 minutes pacing the living room and listening to the faint chords coming from upstairs, along with the occasional shouted curse followed by silence. Eventually, Patrick’s voice came from the stairwell.

“I finished.”

David smiled and moved toward the sound of the voice. Patrick was standing naked at the top of the stairs, his cock still hard and flushed. “Two verses and a chorus?” David asked.

“Four verses, a chorus, and a bridge,” Patrick shot back with a smirk. Such a little shit overachiever.

David grinned as he went up the stairs, meeting Patrick at the top with a kiss before whispering into his lips, “I’m so proud of you.”

Patrick made a pleased sound and then took a step toward the bedroom. “You gonna let me come now or what, dude?”

In response, David took Patrick’s hand and led him into the room and to the bed where the towel was still spread out. “On your back, legs pulled up.” Once Patrick was in position, David knelt down on the bed in front of him and ran his hand up the back of Patrick’s thigh. “You’re so gorgeous,” he murmured. He gripped the base of the plug and began to slowly push and pull at it, little by little, just enough for Patrick to really feel it inside him. Almost immediately Patrick began to wriggle, and David looked up to find Patrick biting his lip hard while he watched David. “You wanna come with this inside you?”

Patrick nodded and gave his hips a small thrust, but David stilled. 

“You know you have to say it, Patrick.”

With a groan, Patrick closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them, they were clear and focused. “Wanna come while the plug’s in my ass, man, want you to fuckin’ make me come, c’mon dude please, I need it.”

“See? You’re so good with your words,” David cooed. He resumed the tiny in and out motions with the plug, pausing to spread lube over one hand so he could grip Patrick’s cock and stroke it in time with his small thrusts. Patrick grunted and gripped his thighs tighter, pulling them all the way to his chest while David kept moving his hands, and  _ god _ he loved being able to watch the pleasure spread through Patrick’s body. He loved knowing that the breaths Patrick was taking now meant he was within 90 seconds of coming. He  _ loved  _ getting to be the one to see this, and do it, and be trusted with it. 

“Gonna…fuck I’m gonna…” Patrick panted.

“Yeah, yeah,” David nodded and kept the pace. He loved this part, watching for the exact moment when the last bit of restraint snapped and Patrick’s face went tight while he came over David’s hand and his own stomach. “Yes, oh my god, yeah Patrick, just like that,” David encouraged, and Patrick let out a shuddery breath as the last waves of the orgasm moved through him. As gently as he could, David removed the plug and watched with satisfaction as Patrick’s hole tried to clench down on nothing. “Shh, I’m right here,” David said. He lay the plug aside and moved up next to Patrick, stroking his chest. “You did so well.”   
  
Patrick’s eyes were closed and his mouth was slightly open as shallow breaths came. A smile came over his face and he lifted a hand, blindly reaching to pull David closer. “Oh my god,” he said finally. Before he had the chance to open his eyes, David was kissing him, licking into his mouth and smiling against him and feeling so lucky that this fratboy songwriter business major really was his. 

“Perfect,” David murmured. He reached for the washcloth he’d used earlier and sighed when he realized it had dried. “I’ll be right back.”

He moved to get up, but Patrick tugged him back down, eyes open now. “It can wait.”

“You might feel differently when your come has dried all over your cute little happy trail,” David pointed out.

Patrick rolled his eyes but grinned and pulled David down again. “Well, you’ll just have to help me wash it off in the shower, won’t you?”

David made a “hmpf” sound but didn’t protest, instead curling up against Patrick’s chest. 

After a stretch of silence in which Patrick drew aimlessly over David’s back, Patrick spoke. “Thank you for…getting it. What I needed. And letting me have it.” 

David let that sink in for a moment before pushing himself up so he could look Patrick in the eye. “Taking care of you is not a chore for me,” he finally said.

With a look that said Patrick understood the depth of what that meant, he pulled David against him once more. “I love you, too.”

**Author's Note:**

> find me on twitter @didipickles2 and tumblr @thedidipickles


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